


On a String, Slow-Spinning

by coffeehousehaunt



Category: Lost Girl
Genre: Double Drabbles, Drabble Collection, F/F, Missing Scenes, Valkubus - Freeform, pre-season 4, prompted, season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-02-03 07:00:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1735421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeehousehaunt/pseuds/coffeehousehaunt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bo and Tamsin guarding each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On a String, Slow-Spinning

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: **Dragons: My character guarding yours.**
> 
> Title is a lyric from "Vindicated", by Dashboard Confessional (shut up).

_Pre-S4_

The train rattles around them, and Tamsin shivers. She can’t hold the memory in her mind, but it’s like her skin _knows_. Exactly where this is.

Bo is still unconscious. Tamsin hates her stupid fucking face, her entire being, laid out there so perfect and calm on the bed, dreaming peacefully when horror itself hovers around her. But then, Tamsin’s not long for this plane; for any plane. She wills Bo not to wake up, and she’s not sure if it’s because she hates her, or the opposite.

She knows what was in the druid’s potion now. Tamsin was a loose end to be tied off, one way or another.

Footsteps thunder down the corridor of the train; a giant’s footsteps at a measured pace.

She wants to shrink into the corner, freeze with the blood in her veins, but she’s on her feet somehow. Doesn’t bother reaching for a blade she may or may not still have; nothing she could do, nothing she could _be_ , will ever be enough to stand between this thing and his prey.

All she can do is stand between Bo and that door when it opens for as long as she can.

Tamsin smiles.

* * *

_Post-“Turn to Stone”_

Lil T asks Bo to sit with her til she falls asleep. After Massimo, no one objects.

"I thought you didn’t like me," Tamsin says, brow furrowed like she’s trying to figure something out, or apologize, and Bo can’t remember what words are.

"It’s okay," Bo manages finally, "It doesn’t matter."

Tamsin curls in towards Bo as she falls asleep, and it takes all her effort not to flinch. Because the truth is, Bo’s the only one now who remembers the times she didn’t hate Tamsin.

And now there’s this memory, from earlier today: raw, wild eyes; the soft skin of her cheek as she turned that shadowed face in towards Bo’s palm. Soft and warm.

Bo is exhausted, but she doesn’t sleep; leans against Tamsin’s bed and wishes her hands weren’t so _hard_.

* * *

_Post-“Groundhog Fae”_

Sleeping in the car? Not how Tamsin wanted to spend Yule. It’s been weeks since she slept in a bed. And this seat is too damn small.

Bo shifts in her arms, and all that shit vanishes. Tamsin holds her breath, waiting to see if she wakes. That damned box is stashed in the trunk, but Bo’s been restless in her sleep, like even asleep it won’t leave her alone. And she’s pressed close, even closer than they got earlier, but Tamsin’s hands still shake when she tightens her arms slightly.

Bo turns in Tamsin’s arms, and for a moment, Tamsin is terrified she’s awake, she’s changed her mind, this was all a dream.

Bo’s eyes don’t open as she buries her face against Tamsin’s neck. And it’s 2 am, but Tamsin swears the sun comes up. She’ll kill anyone who sees this, though she’s not sure on whose behalf anymore.

She can’t even think about that, though; can’t even think about breathing as she opens her hand and curls her arm around Bo’s back, pulls her closer, and it’s been a long time since she’s guarded anything, but this is what she was made for.

_Don’t worry. I’ve got you._


End file.
